


Breathe

by havetardiswilltimetravel



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5227097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havetardiswilltimetravel/pseuds/havetardiswilltimetravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock might not wear his heart on his sleeve, but John knew that was only because he'd spent a lifetime building up armor to hide it. Every failed case, every life undone or taken on his watch, hurt and cut deeply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe

Sherlock's hands tightened in his hair, and John winced at the sight of it. Brow furrowed, he moved over to the window, setting his half-drunk mug of tea on the desk next to Sherlock's untouched one before settling behind Sherlock's hunched form. He pressed his cheek against Sherlock's neck, warm fingers moving up Sherlock's arm and across his chest to tuck themselves just under the collar of his shirt, his other arm wrapping around Sherlock's middle and squeezing. God, he was so tense he was practically vibrating. He breathed against the nape of Sherlock's neck and felt rather than heard the weighty sigh escape Sherlock's mouth.

"Love..." he prodded softly.

"No John..." Came the hoarse reply.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say," he replied, his index and middle finger starting in small gentle circles on Sherlock's neck.

"Yes I do. Of course I do," Sherlock spoke quietly. "You're going to try to convince me to take a break. You're going to say I'm working myself up. You're going to say..."

"Yes?" John asked, fingers slowly moving, descending to his clavicle and back up again

"I need to do this, John. You can't ask me to stop. The murderer won't stop. Neither can I. It's been long enough - there'll be another body in the next day and I just need to-"

"I know..." John's hushed voice interrupted the rising tremor that was Sherlock's. "I know."

He really did. Sherlock might not wear his heart on his sleeve, but John knew that was only because he'd spent a lifetime building up armor to hide it. Every failed case, every life undone or taken on his watch, hurt and cut deeply.

He hugged Sherlock tighter to himself before shifting around, turning his back to the window. His fingers moved from Sherlock's neck to under his chin, tilting his face up.

God, he looked a sight. Eyes radiating exhaustion, the bags underneath heavy with so many days gone without sleep, lips drawn into a slight frown, as if too tired to form a proper expression. John fought to keep the added concern he felt away from his face, knowing there was a very good chance Sherlock would misinterpret it and shut himself down until there was nothing John would be able to do to help.

"I'm not asking you to stop. I'm not asking you to pause," he said softly, carefully. "I'm asking you to take a breath...and come lie down with me." The fingers beneath his chin slid to join the rest of his hand in cupping his cheek.

"Let me hold you. Let me steady you. Maybe you'll think easier in my arms..." John searched his partner's eyes. "Please let me help. Please let me try." He paused seeing Sherlock waver. "For me, Sherlock..."

Sherlock swallowed, searching John's worried eyes. "Yes. Ok..." He murmured after a moment, the relief on John's face gratifying.

"Thank you..." John said, tone hushed. He pressed a gentle kiss to Sherlock's lips before taking his hand, squeezing, and starting towards the bedroom, towards the bed, towards the possibility of his detective getting some rest.

John settled in and tugged Sherlock to him, pressing against Sherlock's back and wrapping his arm around Sherlock's waist. He waited until he was sure Sherlock was lying comfortably to speak.

"Take a breath for me," he said softly.

He felt Sherlock inhale shakily. "Now let it out, love..." He whispered, head bowed against Sherlock's. And as Sherlock did, John did as well, his warm breath filtering across Sherlock's neck. And John felt Sherlock relax. Just a bit.

"One more time..." In. Together. And out. Together.

"This will always be here..." he murmured, feeling Sherlock relax further with each word, and knowing from experience that the cacophony inside his head would lessen just a bit with each shared breath. "I will always be there. You'll solve this case...the world will spin on...and we'll always come back to this...ok?"

Sherlock nodded after a moment, squeezing John hand in his.

And they breathed in again. And out.

**Author's Note:**

> originally on tumblr here: http://havetardiswilltimetravel.tumblr.com/post/132708350869/


End file.
